


Why Me?

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: AU, Gen, Queen on the Damned AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Queen of the Damned AU, in which Akasha turns to Armand for help.





	Why Me?

“Where is Daniel?” Armand asked. The woman standing before him seemed too pretty to be real, and too dangerous to fathom. She smiled, and her smile was not harsh or evil. 

 

“He is nearby.” She said. Her voice was soft and reasonable, sharpened slightly be an accent unlike any Armand had heard. “You can hear him now, yes? He’s sleeping.”

 

Armand felt as if something inside of him had uncoiled. Daniel slept too soundly for any of his thoughts to be perceptible, but Armand could make out his heartbeat, and he wasn’t far. 

 

“But it’s not time to stop worrying yet.” She moved in closer to him, taking his shoulders. Armand watched her face while she ran her cold hands down his arms. 

 

“I didn’t suppose so.” Armand slipped away from her hands, just as she rested them upon his chest. She let him… she laughed. 

 

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

 

Armand only nodded. Too many people had called him that for it to have any effect on him. 

 

“I saw you long ago in Marius’s mind and in his heart. He worshiped you – he worshiped us both, but it was me who he ultimately chose.”

 

It had been so long since anyone had spoken of Marius to Armand, but he felt frozen, and he could barely acknowledge the name. Other words rose in his mind like a prayer, words that had formed the long forgotten mystery of his youth…. 

 

“Those Who Must Be Kept,” the woman said, before he could. The name Akasaha was not spoken, but Armand felt it deep in his mind. At once he knew what he was looking at, though he never could have explained it. 

 

“Are you the source of the dream – the one about the red haired twins?”

 

She stiffened. “No.”

 

For a long while, both were silent.

 

“The dream is nothing,” Akasha said. “When have you listened to dreams? Oh, I know everything about you. I know of your nightmares, that they would drive you mad if you allowed them. If you assign any meaning to the twins, then you must assign meaning to the fires, to the demons rising out of painted eggs. Forget about the twins. I would have you forget about everything that has ever tormented you.”

 

This time Armand did not pull away when she touched him. Her hands came up under his shirt, so that he could feel her skin against his. She was harder than him, more perfected, and he loved it as much as he feared it.

 

“Do not ask if it was I who destroyed the others. You know the answer. They were filthy, revenants who I could not love or purify. They were born out of rape.”

 

“And me?” Armand asked.

 

“I allowed you to be made. Your blood is pure.” 

 

“But I’m not pure,” Akasha was kissing his neck “I’m wretched. I’ve destroyed my soul a thousand times over.” Had he spoken these words before? Armand felt for sure that they had sprung from his lips long ago, muffled in folds of red velvet, soothed away by Marius’s hands. 

 

Akasha only smiled at him.

 

“What have you done to Marius?” Armand asked suddenly. Again he backed away from Akasha. He could not think clearly with her so close to him.

 

“He lives,” she said simply. “Would you rather he die? I can kill him if I choose. I could torture him for abandoning you, and let you watch. Would you like that, Armand?”

 

“No.” Armand was surprised at how quickly the word came, at the feeling of sickness that rose in him momentarily. 

 

“No,” she repeated. She kissed Armand on the lips. It was chaste, and quick, and undeniably sweet. “I can deliver Marius to you. He loves you still, in spite of his own idiocy. I can give you Daniel in any form that you wish. Your immortal blood can not save him, but it would be easy for me to do such a thing.”

 

“What do you want?” It took all of Armand’s will to ask it.

 

“Only that you follow me. That you be my angel.”

 

“Black winged?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“And why me?”

 

“Because Lestat loves you,” Akasha answered simply. “He does not admit it to himself, but a part of him would die if I destroyed you.”

 

Armand thought that these words should surprise him, but they did not. Indeed, nothing had ever seemed so simple, and so utterly truthful.

 

“Will you follow us?” Askasha asked.

 

“Yes.”


End file.
